Lord of the Dance (or getting there ...)

I'm Irish.
Want to know who else is Irish?

Michael Flatley. As in Michael Flatley, Lord of the Dance. The guy who, let's be honest, got made fun of a LOT at the height of his popularity.
Know who else is Irish?
My son.
Who believes he is Michael Flatley.
If we are being honest, I will admit that I have never been to ireland, probably don't have any living Irish relatives, and really don't even know much about being Irish. I just cling to that heritage because I have the colouring (dark hair, pale skin), I have a temper and St.Patrick's Day is an awesome holiday to claim. And, I will even drink Guiness if it's forced on me.
So when Matt came to me asking to take Irish Dance classes with his cousin I thought that it was the perfect fit for us.
Kind of.
Mike doesn't love the idea of Matt being in a dance class.
I'm embracing it but a little scared of the reprucussions of having my boy in dance.
But ...
He's good.
He had his first class yesterday and the child can dance!
He walked right in there and just copied the teacher and went for it.
I won't say he was as well-behaved as the girls.
He didn't listen terribly well and he tended to run around a bit.
But that's Matt - and I can't change that.
What I loved was the excitement.
While some of the little girls were hanging back, not ready for class, Matt was in there showing everyone his stuff. Seriously. He has mastered the arms by his side thing.
And, I'm quite happy that my son's costume expense will be reasonably low.
Chloe even got in on the action. While Matt was in his class I let Chloe watch the older kids rehearse. She was dancing right along with them (and everyone said she was adorable)
But, as my brother in law pointed out - the end of season recital should be very interesting.
And seriously, I'm not sure how much Irish jig music I can really handle.
We'll see.
So, bye-bye karate. hello Irish dance.

Cartwheels, Among Other Things

I have this list in my head.
I've been reading people who have these things they want to accomplish by 30 lists. Well, I missed that milestone, so I decided I need a list of things to do by the age of 40. That gives me 9 years, so I have awhile. Item #1 - write the list!
But really, one of the things on this mental list of mine includes learning to do a cartwheel.
You may be shocked by the fact that I can't. And that I never learned.
My parents, in their infinite wisdom, decided not to enroll me in gymnastics classes. They say it was cost prohibitive, but I think really it had more to do with my inability to walk in a straight line, and the fact that they wanted me to live past my 8th birthday. Also, I never asked.
I'm okay with that.
I'm living through my adorable children who have both taken gymnastics (Chloe shows a little more talent) and my niece who is also taking classes.
I'm okay with the fact that I will never be able to do a backflip on a balance beam, or swing freely through the air from the low-bar to the high bar.
I did do the gymnastics rotation in gym class, but my 10th grade gym teacher was frightened by the bruises I sustained in my attempts to do the vault. So, she suggested that learning a floor routine may cause too much bodily injury.
Fine.
But, I still cannot do a cartwheel. And I am determined to learn.
I debated approaching the coach from Chloe's mommy&me class, but I really want to keep the focus on my adorable child, and I'm trying to cut back on the crazy when it comes to other mothers' perceptions of me.
And then I remembered that my friend used to be a gymnastics coach. And I recruited her.
Now, I love Lisa. But, I'll admit my beloved friend thought I was a LITTLE crazy when I approached her. However, she knows me well, and supported my dream ... and off we went to a meeting room (the big one with lots of space) and she showed me some tricks.
I FELT AWESOME!!!!
So, awesome, in fact, that last night I dragged Mike outside, in the rain, to make a video of my cartwheeling prowess.
As I performed multiple cartwheels I was thrilled to post the video on here, knowing you would all be impressed, and think to yourselves "wow! she missed an opportunity to be an Olympian. She has so much potential."
And, wisely before I posted I watched myself.
OH MY GOD I SUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Clearly I did not miss my calling.
I have bent legs and I look horrible.
Of course, Matt decided to cartwheel next to me and he wanted it on video also.
So, as we watched the video, and I winced in horror, Matt started jumping up and down.
"Look at me, Mommy. I'm wonderful. You too Mommy. You did great."
What?
Really, I didn't.
And honestly, he isn't a cartwheeling genius either. We both equally suck.
But, man, I wish I had that kid's confidence.
I'm not sure when I hit the point of looking at myself in horror instead of pride. What Matt saw, and what I should have seen, was how much fun we were having.
How, when we tried to do cartwheels at the same time it was kind of awesome - not in the sense of an accomplishment, but more in the sense that we were laughing so hard we couldn't stand up.
So, maybe my cartwheel failed.
But, my mothering last night - PERFECT 10.
I'll take that.
And I'll practice.
And, maybe I'll make another video. If I can manage to at least land on my feet. And, I'll show you my adorable child. But, that's another day. When at least if I can't perform a cartwheel I can at least wear clothes that don't frighten the masses.
Someday ...

Crazy, Anyone?

We all need a little crazy in our lives. Right? I hope so.
And there's nothing like a crazy neighbour to make life just a little bit interesting.
We've had crazy neighbours before, but the ones we had were more crazy annoying than crazy funny. And, then we thought one of our neighbours was a crazy cat lady (I say this as a cat lover), but then we got to know her and discovered that she is a teeny bit eccentric, but really not crazy at all. Which was all good except Mike nad I had one less neighbour to gossip about.
Until ...
The crazy bird lady moved in.
I'm not sure if it's totally fair to call her that since she really has a menagerie in her house. She has a cat, a dog, some fish and about 7 birds.

One of these birds is Loulou, a Macaw.
So, bird lady likes to take her birds for walks.
An added bonus is that she decided to take a paper route so that she could socialize her birds. I'M NOT KIDDING. We get a paper 3 times per week and each time she has a different bird sitting on her shoulder.
And every time that she delivers the paper she says hit to my family. My kids love her. I kind of do too. But, that does not detract from her wackiness.
Yesterday was insane on a whole bunch of levels. Mike's opa (grandpa) had an aneurysm on the same day that Mike's sister was arriving for a visit from Australia.  So, he did the airport pick-up while i cleaned, cooked and prepared for a house guest.
And then for some reason crazy bird lady was walking by so Matt went out to say hi. Today was socializing Loulou the macaw day.
And, crazy bird lady decided that she would have people feed the bird.
Of course I thought that was an awesome idea.
Except the friggin bird bit me ... AND THEN LAUGHED. 
Which made everyone laugh except that I was in pain.
Of course this led me to tweet about the event.
Except in this case ... twitter FAIL!
What I forgot when tweeting was that not everyone knew that my sister-in-law was visiting and then my parents were watching the kids while we were off to visit Mike and his sister's grandpa in the hospital. And the tweet about the Macaw bite was just really a one-off tweet. Instead the chain of tweets was a little jarring to some people who thought that Loulou, the Macaw who bit me, put me in the hospital (READ FROM THE BOTTOM UP)

So, my finger is fine. My ego, despite being laughed at by a bird, is intact, and the visit to the icu were for Mike's grandpa. (we don't know how he is doing, so that is another post for another day).

And, as I'm actively avoiding the bird lady, I have discovered that I needn't go far from home for the crazy because there is a spazzed-out territorial squirrel living in the tree that shades our home.
And, I am sure that the squirrel is going to attack.
Duck and cover, people. DUCK AND COVER.

In which I Somehow Compare Rebecca Eckler and Mitch Joel

Pictures ... links ... talking about twitter ... Clearly I was at at internet event last night.

I have a mommy blog. I blog about my life and my kids. About my love of shoes and crushes on my hairstylist.
I tweet about that stuff to.
That's not all there is to me. But for me writing about all of that is enjoyable. If a pretty pair of shoes makes me smile, well this is the space for that.
So, while those are things that tend to define my writing, here's a confession that may surprise you.
I am completely fascinated, awed and inspired by a blogger-writer-marketer that I recently discovered.
I will freely admit that I love reading Oprah's magazine, think Rebecca Eckler is the best writer ever and love the movie Bring It On.
So when I say the name Mitch Joel - it should kind of throw you for a loop. Really. It should.
He writes about social media. And about personal brand. And about being an entrepreneur.
And here's a confession - I discovered him at a convention on special event planning, and I almost skipped his keynote speech because I thought it may be boring (sorry!). But, at work I've been really trying to spearhead a social media initiative. So I went. And OMG! This guy is amazing. I was enthralled.
In fact from the moment he started talking I was hooked. As in I stopped checking my blackberry and whispering to my friend and sat for a full hour listening to what he had to say about social media, personal branding and how it is all tied together.
And then I learned he was releasing a book - which I am reading and loving. (and side note, when I went to buy his book there was totally a line-up of 3 of us to buy it. At the same store where there was no line-up for the latest Twilight release ... so, go Mitch)
And he has a blog.
And he's on twitter and facebook. (and bonus points - he has replied to my tweets and friended me on Facebook which may make me an internet stalker, but then he totally told me to comment on his blog, so clearly I do not have the stalker look about me. Thank god.)
And then ... he had a book launch. And I managed to get invited, and brought someone I work with (who has a far greater grasp of social media than I do). And I totally went and introduced myself to Mitch. Who was really quite lovely.
And I had a typical Laural moment of starting to talk, and then realizing halfway through that I could not stop talking. Oops. But, apparently the moment wasn't so bad because then I went home and added him as a friend on facebook, and he friended me back. So clearly I did manage to STOP THE FLOW OF WORDS fairly quickly. Thank goodness.
And then I realized today I needed to blog about all his wonderful goodness.
So. Go get the book. You'll thank me. It's a little slower than say, my favourite book of all time.
And, since I keep comparing the two, here is what goes on in my head.

The Great Rebecca/Mitch Comparison
(like Julia & Julia without the food. or not really, but funny to me)
Rebecca - author of mommy books. Made me laugh. Made me cry. Made me stop panicking about whether I suck at being a mom
Mitch - author of social media books. Made me laugh. Kind of made me panic that I suck at the internet
Rebecca - Is all about her personal brand
Mitch - obsessively talks about personal brand
Rebecca - Went to her book launch. Could not stop talking then burst into tears because I was amazed by her awesomeness.
Mitch - Went to his book launch. Again could not stop talking but wisely did not burst into tears despite his awesomeness
Rebecca - Amazing fashion sense. If I were her friend I would totally ask her to take me shopping (I mean, in my head we are totally friends.).
Mitch - he seems to wear a lot of black. Despite my facebook friend status (one of about 3500 friends) I'm pretty sure I'll stick to listening to his social media advice and skip asking for fashion advice.

So, where does that leave us?
Oh - just go buy the book. It's good. And while you're at it, stock up on Rebecca's books to.

On Being a Drama Queen

I'll admit it. I have a slight tendency toward the dramatic.
Admit it. You know this is the case.
One of my resolutions when I turned 30 was to be less dramatic. (another was to get my hair dyed professionally ... good call on that one).
And, also, somewhere in there I decided that I needed to take a break from my beloved hair stylist Bill, who I will love forever and ever amen, and find a hair stylist that could cut and colour my hair for less than a million dollars.
And, so I found one.
Who, I just realized totally has access to my blog because this goes automatically to facebook (hi!). And I kind of love him.
Let's be honest. I had 17 years with Bill. We have history. I do not have that much time with my new person (I'm not sure if he's cool with me sharing his name - search my friends, you can figure it out). And, honestly, I fell in love with Bill when I was 13, and it's totally different now. But whatever. The point is ...
Wait. I think I lost the point.
Okay - new hair stylist. Building the love. it takes time.
And then something happened. In retrospect it IS kind of funny. But, I got overly dramatic. And went and got my hair cut somewhere else. And kind of liked it (the hair cut - not where I went). But, only 50% of the hair cut is the cut. The other 50% is the person cutting it - and letting you leave feeling FAB-U-LOUS. And, really ...
New guy has the same charm as Bill.
And I leave feeling good about my hair and myself.
So, back to where I was. I totally cheated on new guy. Because I was angry. I do that. (get angry - not cheat). But, then I missed him. So I called and made an appointment. And went back.
Last night.
Guess what?
It went okay.
First of all, he made my hair edgy. (well, I like to think so). he totally didn't get my joke when I said I wanted to look like Kate Gosselin. I think it's a good thing that Kate isn't on his hair radar. Instead he wanted to make me look like someone from 90210. Nice.
I didn't mention that I'm old school 90210 more than new school.
I like that he thinks I'm young. (though he knows my age).
And then after the discussions about being edgy, regular use of my flat iron, and what colour highlights I should go with (deep purple) I did something crazy.
I apologized for being such a drama queen over something so minor.
And ...
HE LAUGHED.
And promised me he would never do that again.
And we are cool. Thank goodness. And as proof that we are cool he didn't do something revengeful like shave my head. Or make me look like Kate. Cause he really could have, now that I think about it.
And, as it turns out, the guy is dramatic himself. And, I love drama queens who understand my dramatic tendencies.
Win-win.
And the best part about getting my hair cut. It has to be his wonderful gigantic bear hugs at the end. So, maybe I'm a little smitten. And you know what, I don't think it's a bad thing.
I still have to admit. I miss Bill. Because as much as my hair is lovely ... a big part of me loves my Bill. Even if I can't afford him. But, that's another story for another time.

A LONNNNNG weekend

I have a lot to say about this weekend.
About how it started with gymnastics class for my baby (who walked around like she owned the place) and how I almost cried from the joy and pride. I have much to say about that, but I should really bring a camera to show you the cuteness. And oh the pride. I am fully amazed at how my little girl at 18 months takes on the world and shows everyone who is boss with the biggest and most beautiful smile on her face.
I want to talk about the funeral/memorial that I went to . I just don't have the words, or the comprehension, to go into detail, or to explain the sadness over a life ending too soon while at the same time marveling over a group of people who can rise above sadness and anger to celebrate the joy and love this person brought.
There was the surprise party for my dad which was incredible and amazing. And, I realized how proud I am to be his child (well, this I already knew, but I was reminded). And there was catching up with people I love who I don't see often enough.
And then there was yesterday, when I realized that being a mom is damn hard, and I had to deal with a total ass who felt the need to swear at my 5 year old who was having a really rough day. But, despite this man's ridiculous behaviour I was moved to tears by strangers who came to my child's defense (and mine) to help us move beyond idiocy. And they reminded me that for the small amounts of bad and mean there are in the world, there is a lot more good.
But today I am exhausted. Just completely emotionally spent.
So I got up, went to the gym, and started my week like any other.
And life goes on.
Bit by bit I realize that, like Miss Hannah Montana herself sings, "it's all about the climb."
Onwards and upwards, my friends. And on with the week.

Senior Kindergarten ... Here we come!

Yesterday Matt went to school.
He's no longer the little jk kid who was excited and frightened about a new adventure. Nope. he's an sk.
he knew he was visiting his classroom for half an hour. He was thrilled he got half an hour with his teacher, his beloved teacher, to tell her about his summer and to show her he could read.
When we left jk in June he could read a couple of site words ("the" was his favourite). He knew his letter sounds. He had no interest in reading or writing.
And his teacher suggested that we try to encourage reading.
We took her advice, but we let him go at his own pace. A word here, a word there. Lots of excitement (genuine) when he sounded out the word Mom (spelled mam) and wrote it everywhere.
And over the summer he started reading more. One day sounds started to make sense. his world exploded. In place of playing lego in his bedroom he started looking through books, shrieking for us to help him with a word.
And we let him go at his own pace. Lots of encouragement. no pushing. Even though it killed me that he didn't love to read like I did, I let it go. And we let him learn the love of language on his own.
And yesterday we went to see his teacher.
And she pulled out her pile of site words.
22 words.
And he read them. Each and every word. By himself. Because he wanted to.
I was sitting in the hall chatting with the special ed teacher.
What I told the special ed teacher, the woman who I wish I didn't know because of her job function, was that over the summer I learned that instead of making Matt fit my mold I learned I have to fit his. I have to meet him where he is at.
And, it's working.
When his teacher came to bring me into the classroom she had tears in her eyes. Because she spent all of jk struggling with me, knowing that my amazing child could be amazing - if we could just figure out how.
"He blew me away."
Me too.
Because my child. The kid who has ADHD. The child who tells me that sometimes his brain just won't work right. My child decided he can.
Being a mom is amazing. Not always. We all know that. The temper tantrums, the anger. That's all part of what goes on in his brain. It's something we are working with and conquering and maybe even embracing. But seeing my child accomplish something that is really really hard amazes me.
it puts me in my place.
And it reminds me that as much as I need to accept that he struggles I can't accept mediocrity for my child.

I didn't post this last year. But, if you want to see how far we've come, here's an e-mail I sent to a few people about the exact same visit last year. We've come a long way, baby!

"Seriously ... worst visit ever!!!!
We were supposed to go for a half hour visit. We got forms to fill out while the teacher showed Matt the classroom.
So, the classroom visit went really well. He had no problem with us staying in the hall and did everything she asked. He drew pictures and even did letters (something he will not do for us). He was happy and laughing, etc.
So then she brought us in. We were talking about behavioural issues and so she let him have a "quick play" with one bucket of toys. So, we talked for quite awhile and he was happily playing away. And then she said it was tidy up time.
He refused.
So she said she would help him tidy and play. (at which point we were baffled as to whether we should let her do her thing or intervene, but we let her do her thing). So he shouted at her. And then started throwing toys. It was awful. By the end of the impromptu tidy up session he was screaming "I hate you Ms. Teacher. I am very angry right now". I was trying not to cry while at the same time relieved he was just shouting not hitting.
And then he turns to her and screams "I am very angry at you Ms.Teacher. Very angry and your tidy up time must change." Then he turned on his heel, grabbed the backpack and very dramatically said "this stupid visit is now over and I'm outta here."
Mike went with him and to my relief his teacher cracked up and told me that kids tend to be a little over-excited and have extreme reactions, and that I don't need to worry too much. And, I hit the point of laughing almost hysterically because otherwise I would have started to cry.
At least she didn't think I was the crazy parent who was trying to diagnose my kid with an issue that was non-existent.
It was horrible and funny all at the same time. Mike was quite glad to be going back to work.

The funny thing is that when we were eating lunch we were talking about it a bit. Matt turned to me and said "that Ms. Teacher seems very nice. Only 2 more sleeps till I go back!" I'm sure Ms.Teacher is counting down the days also."

Hmmmmm

A couple of weeks ago my friend and I went to hear a keynote speech at a convention. I have to admit that I tend to listen to people speak, or read books, or watch tv shows, and realize that I may have missed the whole huge message (no matter how good) because I am completely focused on one aspect of what that person said.
Case in point was this speech.
Actually, I was pretty riveted the entire time. To the point that I a going back to hear him speak next week.
But, what really struck me was not the incredible stuff the speaker had to say about social media. What struck me was when he was talking about reputation. The point he made was that sometimes what you think about yourself, and what you think people would say about you is not necessarily what you would say about yourself. And also that some of the most enlightened people in the world (I think like Oprah or Eckhart Tolle or Mother Theresa???) would have personal lists that would match what others would say about them.
And I'm completely obsessed with this thought.
I honestly will be on the elliptical in the morning, totally working out and focused on what I'm doing, and I start wondering about my own personal list. What traits would I say about myself (postive or negative) about myself, and what would others say?
Or I will start thinking about how at the gym in the morning I never talk to people. I walk in completely focused and don't say a word. And, I'm sure that the people there think I'm kind of snotty and shy.
And then I come home and I'm with my kids, and when I'm with them I try to be more authoratative. And when I'm rushing around trying to get out of the house on time I have a tendency to be kind of bitchy to Mike when he's late. And our nanny sees this, and I have to admit that she sees me as a bit of a stress case.
And then there's work. I'm totally different there again. Too chatty. Too noisy. Too messy and a little bit crazy. And I can't help but contrast the person I am from 9-5 with the person I am at my 5 am workout.
And, then take the day at work. I wouldn't say I'm 100% confident all of the time. But in many situations I am. But, the other day at work I was in this meeting and someone said to me "I'm confident you can pull this off, and do this project, but I need to know that you're confident in yourself and I'm not seeing that."
Seriously.
I can't stop questionning if people think I have no confidence.
That's been bugging me for days.
And, it actually does really matter.
And then there's this blog. And, maybe on here I'm a combination of all of those things. Actually, maybe I'm not quite as snarky on here as I am in real life. Who knows.
Which leads me to the point, what do I think of myself? And what positive qualities do I have? And seriously, even if I think I have them do I? And can you make yourself have good qualities just because you want them?
Hmmmmm....
Maybe I'll make a list.
Not now. I still have to think about it.

The Joys of Boys

Matt is my sweet, sweet 5 year old.
If there's one thing he loves it's hugs and cuddles and having stories read to him. There's nothing better to him than waking up in the morning and having Mommy all to himself. We sit in the big chair, watch some Spongebob and cuddle.
I love that about Matt.
Because he also struggles with temper tantrums and meltdowns sometimes, I've discovered (in my vast parenting wisdom ... heh heh) that sometimes the best way to solve a problem is by just giving him a big hug and telling him things are okay.
The other day I came home and the world was falling apart because our nanny had said no ice cream.
As I stood in the kitchen with Matt sobbing I turned to him and said "Maybe a hug will make this better."
And he jumped into my arms and snuggled there for a good 30 seconds. He pulled back a bit and whispered to me that he wanted to tell me something.
Ever the kind, compassionate, mom, I stopped and I said "you can tell me anything."
Matt: "Mommy. Your hugs are the best. You know just how to squish me and make me fart. I love you."

Oh Matt ... I love you too!!!

Miss Me? Well I do!

I know.
If you have followed me on my blogs, or know me, or are me, you've probably said (likely to me) "what are you doing with your blogs?"
I know.
It's ridiculous.
I have 3 blogs.
Here's the problem. On this blog my name is everywhere. And it bothered me for awhile when people were searching me. As in people who know me in real life. Like work people. But that died down. And there was that whole "issue" that made me question this whole blogging thing.
And then I was pregnant. And I had to debate whether I wanted to have my kids' lives online. So i started another blog. But it wasn't me. So I started a different blog. But it still wasn't me.
And then ...
And then I realized that it doesn't matter.
I miss writing for who I am.
Misadventures - that's who I am. My life is full of these misadventures. These mis-steps. The mistakes. The moments that make me laugh. The times I wonder why on earth I said what I just did - in front of a room full of people. I'm the person who brought a bawking chicken into work and then had it kidnapped. (really). I'm the person who has a tendency to let everyone know how I feel - and wear my heart on my sleeve. Which causes some problems.
And, Mommy. That's me too. It's something I'm proud of, even if I struggle pretty much every day with that as my identity. Who am I first? Laural? A mom? A working mom. A working woman who has kids?
And, this blog let me do that.
Not as someone with a pseudonym. But as me. Very definitely me.
And I miss that.
The people who know me, who love me (or at least like me or put up with me) they know that what they see is what they get.
I'd wished I'd blogged my adventures in organics here. It would have been much funnier. Maybe I'll revisit that.
But I want to be back. Here. At my blogging home. Cuz I miss it. And I miss you guys. All of you who read (hi Wondermommies! I'm looking at all of you). And I think I'm ready to go back to being me and living on line. And maybe deleting my other blogs. Or importing some of that stuff back here.
So, we're cool?
We're done being "on a break"?
Good? Good.
Welcome back.
Why thank you.
Want to know the real me? Voila.

Since My Grandad is 100

Sometimes I miss this blog. And in honour of my grandad who just turned 100 (and also a couple of friends who bugged me NOT to totally quite this blog) I wanted to share what I said about him last weekend.
100. Wow!


Good afternoon
My name is Laural, and I am art’s second oldest grand child.
I was asked to say a little bit about the experience of being one of his grandchildren.
My granddad is one of a kind! My earliest memories of him are when I was pretty little. I have fond memories of traveling to the apartment in Orillia and playing with Nana and Granddad’s dog Jodi, sliding down piles of snow, and going for special dinners at Swiss Chalet. Of course I’ll never forget stealing mints from their candy bowl and Granddad telling me stories about his railroad days – stories that I now tell my children
One of my most treasured memories of Granddad is from when I was about 9 or 10. Nana was in the hospital for surgery, so our family would visit on the weekend. I would make granddad sandwiches and we’d go for a walk around the hospital. Because Granddad had a hard time hearing me, we would pass notes to each other written on hospital cafeteria napkins. I really treasured some of the messages he sent me.
I learned through those notes how much Grandad loved to hear about my life, and as I grew up I would often jot him a quick letter to tell him about life, school, work and family.
From him I discovered the love of writing, and also the importance of listening (or at least pretending really well).
As I’ve grown up I have had the privilege of not only introducing Grandad to my husband, but also to my 2 children, Matthew and Chloe, two of Art’s 4 great grandchildren.
There’s a saying that goes “it’s great to have children. Better to have grandchildren, but great grandchildren are the icing on the cake.”
For me it’s been such a blessing to watch granddad interact with my kids. I love to see the look of pure joy on his face when my kids give him hugs, or when he gets an extra special cuddle from a baby.
I recently told my 5 year old that his Great Grandad is 100. And I’ll leave you with the words he said to me.
“100 years old means you’ve seen lots of life. It makes you very smart and very special. And I’m lucky that it’s my Great Grandad.”
So, happy birthday, Grandad!
Congratulations on 100 years.

Moving on

I know I’ve neglected this blog for awhile now.
I started it a couple of years ago and it was perfect for me. It was a place to talk about all the stuff going on in my life.
I loved telling stories about Matthew and the crazy life we had. The title of my blog “Misadventures of Mommy Laural” wasn’t a title I thought long and hard about. To me parenting was just a crazy misadventure and I never knew what I was doing right – or wrong.
I always felt like I didn’t quite know what I was doing. And, because I was (fairly) young when I had Matt, it seemed like strangers felt compelled to offer me advice, give suggestions or critique my parenting.
It’s been 5 years now since I became a mother (to Matt) and I’ve been a mother of 2 for just over a year now.
And, what I’m seeing now is that Matt’s story is his now.
He’s five.
And my five year old has a very strong opinion of what he likes and doesn’t like. Since he’s started school I’ve watched him grow from a little boy whose life was dictated by his parents to a child who clearly knows what he wants to do and when he wants to do it.
That’s one of the most amazing things about Matt.
But, it also has led me to believe that this blog, this discussion of my life, his life, my parenting and his being parented isn’t just my story to tell anymore.
It’s OUR story.
And as much as I would love to share it all here I can’t. I would love to sit and write a post about my fears for him. I worry about social stuff, about bullying, about his attention issues among other things.
But, I’m not sure that a blog is the right place to talk about that.
Miss Chloe has her own story too. But, it’s different the second time around. In a way it’s easier.
The great thing I learned from blogging though, is this. Everyone struggles. And when you put yourself out there, and you admit that you are struggling, that you need help, that you need reassurance, that you aren’t perfect … people listen. And they help.
I rely on my friends, on my WonderMommies, on my family. And for now I’m not relying on my blog.
So am I done? Yes and No. This space here will be shut down soon. And my other blog (that many of you know about) will be also.
But, I’m working on something new. Something fun! Something more me. And, bonus points if you can guess what the topic is.
Once I have it up and running I’ll post the link here.
But, for now, thanks for reading!

The birthdays are coming

In our household, this time of the year is exciting because we have 2 birthdays to celebrate: Chloe's on March 28th and Matt's on April 6th. So, 2 birthdays in 2 weeks.
Of course I came up with the plan to celebrate Matt's birthday by inviting his entire class (19 kids) and my nieces TO MY HOUSE for a Mad Science birthday party. That party will be held exactly one week after our birthday/open house for Chloe's first birthday. Also at our house. Yes. Crazy.
So, of course, when I got an e-mail telling me I could win Disney party ideas and favours I jumped at the chance to enter.
Really, I didn't get my hopes up. I enter contests all the time. I didn't expect to win.
But, win I did!
So, soon I'm getting a bunch of Disney stuff to help me celebrate! I can't wait.
I'm not sure that this will really help me make a better party, but you never know.
For now, I'm just stressing about what I'm going to do. I still haven't sent out birthday invitations for either party. And I haven't planned.
Yikes.
But, one day at a time.
Any party planners are welcome to help out. I have nothing!

Valentines

I love Valentine's Day.
I know some people call it a Hallmark holiday, but I love it for that reason. We don't have to travel anywhere. There's no worrying about changing schedules so that everyone is happy. We simply have to be with each other.
And eat chocolate.


And wake up to a table decorated by my loving husband.
We also enjoyed a lovely dinner out - just Mike and I, because our nanny babysat. (she offered). I paid no attention to my diet and enjoyed every bite of my meal down to the chocolate brownie. It was delicious.

HAPPY VALENTINE'S EVERYONE!

Loving Grandma ...

When Grandma says "smile for the camera" ...



Chloe smiles for the camera!



The cuteness kills me.

Can you believe that tomorrow our nanny starts? I can't. These past 10 months have flown by. I can't believe my teeny tiny baby is getting so big (and funny, cute, crazy, active ...). I also can't believe Matthew has started the countdown to his FIFTH birthday.

This weekend we celebrated Mike's birthday. I know we're a bit ahead of things, but instead of spending the weekend stressing about the changes happening in our home I surprised Mike with a trip to Buffalo (Friday night to Saturday) an afternoon at Monster Jam with Matthew tonight and then dinner at my parents. Oh ... and a brand new camera which he seems to love.

Competimommy - the elementary years

I'm not sure who coined the phrase Competimommy, but it's a good one.
I encountered many Matthew was younger. One particular playgroup we went to had the rich moms who compared which Louis Vuitton bag was truly the best to use as a diaper bag (seriously), and encounted the moms who were becoming proficient in ASL so that they could better communicate with their babies. I'm not talking baby sign language (I embraced this). I'm talking moms who paid ASL coaches to made videos for them so they could practice advanced words.
Seriously.
And, I laughed at it. Because I was so far out of their league I couldn't compete. At first I was insecure, but I slowly realized that as a mom I had my flaws, and no designer bag could really make up for the fact that I routinely spilled cheerios, lost soothers and forgot to bring diapers in my diaper bag. And, no matter how many languages I became proficient in, my kid would say his first word when he was ready. (though he did sign "milk" at a very young age!)
And then there was tonight.
Matthew and his cousin Kyla had gymnastics together.
This isn't my first session of gymnastics. In fact, we just finished a session in December. But, the afternoon moms of 3-5 year olds are not nearly as competitive as the moms my sister and I encountered tonight.
First there was the mom who, ironically, is a parent in Matt's class. The thing is, at school I barely notice her. At gymnastics it was a whole other story. It was the FIRST class. We were all trying to get a look through the window at our darlings. I'll admit that. But this mom? She pulled up a chair, stood on it, and when her daughter did something she cheered. At first I thought that this kid was doing backflips. Nope. She was skipping right next to Matt and Kyla. As they progressed through the various activities her mom continued right on, lamenting the kid's body shape (she's 5) and insisiting her husband hoist their son on his shoulder so the whole family could observe.
I was unable to enjoy the moment of snark with my sister, because our conversation (yes, we did get a Starbucks and planned to spend the hour chatting while slightly monitoring our kids) was interrupted constantly by a woman in a peach coloured sweater.
In the one hour session we learned her entire life story.
We learned about the time she sold her house.
We learned about her kids.
And, most importantly, we learned about her daughter who is a brilliant gymnast and was asked to be in this particular evening class. Thrilling.
As she talked Becky and I would casually step back at an appropriate break in conversation only to be interrupted again by the same woman. It was funny.
Now, I know this may sound harsh, but she was a plump woman and about my height. Given the fact that she was wearing a peach sweater and was very round, with a round hairstyle, I have to admit that I kept thinking she looked like a Giant Peach.
And the more she spoke the more I thought it.
But, the clincher of the evening was when we were watching the elite gymnasts doing flips. I was amazed at the ability they had to hop into a flip and do 5 or 6 ina row. It was amazing. And, I said so. And as Beck and I were discussing how many flips these girls could do yet again the Peach interrupted us.
"It's Momentum"
Good to know. I continued what I was saying.
"Momentum. It's momentum. It's the floor and it's momentum. That's how they keep going."
Okay.
"I know this. I was a highschool gymnast."
At this point all I could picture was a giant peach hurdling across the gym floor. Ironically, my sister had the same thought.
I can't wait to go back next week and hear just how well all the off spring did this week.

Why We Aren't Having Playdates for Awhile

Today Matt asked if his friend could come and play. I said no.
Why?

I'm pretty sure the lack of walls may cause a problem.

And, as much fun as it is to play with power tools ... I'm pretty sure that anything our contractor leaves at our house is probably not safe for kids.

Really, our basement is pretty torn up right now. But, renovations are going well.
I was worried that it would be kind of hellish, but so far so good. The cats are a little confused, but other than that it's not too bad.

Imagine

Imagine This ...

Seriously. For Christmas I want to go to Disney World!

Oh Christmas Tree!

This year's Christmas tree was different from others. There is a lack of ornaments, lights, and sparkly stuff.
We debated a lot about whether or not we would even have a tree.
Chloe is very active, and after spending about 2 minutes around my parents' tree I realized that we really could not do our usual glitz and glamour.
But, of course we have a tree. And of course Matthew wanted to decorate.

So we let him.

The tree is about 5 feet, and he could reach most of it. So, we let him put up whatever he wanted. And we even let him help with the lights.


Chloe also helped.


As I said, this year's tree lacks the Martha Stewart flare of previous years. Okay, I lie. I've never been into the Martha look. But, I do usually have a colour theme, hang the tinsel/ribbon in some order and get a little anal about the whole thing.

I also usually care that there is only one ornament per branch. And ornaments have to be the right way up.

This year all our candy canes turned into J's since that is the letter of the week. And all the J's are grouped together. On one branch. There is no theme. My Kristi Yamaguchi ornament is hanging on top of a bell.

But, this is my favourite Christmas tree ever. It's what Christmas is all about. And, it makes me smile. Sure, I'd love a fancy star, not the dollar store special that blinks. But, whatever. Tis the season. And I guantee we'll remember our afternoon of Christmas carols and tree decorating more than we would a fancy tree.

But, hey...
Since you're asking, want to see my sister's tree too? (and, can we all stop and enjoy the fact that the child who is sitting and smiling properly for the picture is Matthew?)

Chilling With Grandpa

Last night was a tree lighting near the school my dad works at. So, my mom picked Matt up for a special Grandma/Grandpa evening.
My dad plays clarinet and was in a jazz band, and Matt had the role of holding a flashlight so my dad could read the music.
Matt took his job very seriously, and did a really good job, sitting still the entire time.
After the music a very special visitor came out.
The whole ride there and back Matt was thrilled with time to chat to Grandma as they spotted Christmas lights, talked about school ("Q and U are best friends") and enjoyed the festive spirit.